Arachne
by lythraceae
Summary: Having a villainous-seeming quirk in a quirk filled world isn't as great as it might seem. Sure, it's not the same as being quirkless, but I'm considered a villain, no doubt about it. Web-weaver, venom-stinger, poison-spewer. Now, all I need to do is figure out how to use those legs on my back.
1. Contamination

In a world filled with impossible variations of unique quirks, it comes as no surprise that some quirks are the result of mutated genes. I was thankfully not the product of a quirk marriage, but considering what quirk I ended up with, I might as well have been.

Mum can manipulate her hair, and by manipulate, I mean _she can make it move_. She can change the length, the style, the texture. And it all moves according to her whims. Dad, on the other hand, is entirely immune to poison. He can secrete poison through the surface area of his skin, and he can produce venom that comes out of his teeth.

The thing about their quirks, is that while they sound particularly overpowered, Mum gets absolutely _killer_ headaches if she uses her quirk too much, and Dad permanently has some pretty extreme symptoms of a fever. His body has to get rid of the poison, but he creates poison in his body, and the vicious cycle continues on. What I meant by "immune" was that poison can't kill Dad.

So, in theory, if I ended up with a mixture of their quirks, like poisonous hair or a hairy but poisonous body, I would have bad fever symptoms and killer headaches as a byproduct. But I didn't, because my quirk ended up a mutation, so instead of pain, I got my creepiness factor upped by about fifty percent.

In conclusion, my quirk doesn't give me any pain, but it brings me a lot of pain. I guess that sort of balances it out?

* * *

I had a completely, totally, entirely rational fear of spiders.

They were scary and sometimes hairy, they were terrifying and petrifying.

Did I need to say more?

I'm mostly over it.

* * *

Imagine my surprise when I woke up at the age of four, and looked into the mirror, only to see that my normal eyebrows had disappeared, and in their places were three sort of raindrop shaped patches of hair. Take a wild guess at what those six black patches of hair plus my own two eyes ended up looking like.

I still remember the scream I made (and my room has never been the same since). My screaming triggered something in me, and my parents ran into the room only to see their four-year-old half-spider-half-human child flinging spider silk wildly, sclera morphing from white to black, teeth becoming progressively pointier, canines lengthening and sharpening, voice turning as raspy as a 50-pack-per-day chain smoker's.

None of those were even the biggest change to my body. Four gigantic spider legs had ripped through the back my shirt, and were pointing forward threateningly.

It's hilarious when I think back on that memory now, but I had been screaming "Get it off! Get if off!" like it was somehow going to help.

Mum had to use her quirk to tie me up, and then we all spent the next three hours lying in bed.

* * *

So.

Spiders.

Lots of people have varying degrees of arachnophobia. I, myself, used to be included, but I can handle having spiders walk on my arms and legs, now. Of course, tiny spiders are much easier to handle, rather than tarantulas.

I do still wish I were more like a snake, though. Snakes are completely fine.

But, in regards to my arachnophobia, Mum and Dad had to actually bring me to a therapist to talk about my fear. I had to go to the therapist because nothing my parents did helped with me being scared to use my own quirk. Like they tried exposing me to spiders, and that really only ended with me screaming and wrapping the spiders up in my webs.

* * *

After I turned four, I had to start going to school. And let me just say, children are probably harsher villains than actual villains are. (Sticks and stones, but ouch.)

There's the saying: A nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

Because my quirk was so different, I was obviously bullied.

Spiders were apparently bugs, bugs were bad, and bad is basically a synonym for evil. So by their logic, I was a villain.

* * *

Two years.

Two years of being called a villain.

Half a year of me going home and crying to my Mum asking why, a year of my just letting words roll of my back, and half a year of unjustified (but also justified) anger.

* * *

The year I turned seven, my birthday gift was moving to a different city. New neighbors, new environment, a less poisonous air. My parents left their cushy office jobs to make sure that their child wasn't going to accidentally kill a bully. And I was going to start elementary school without any past prejudices following me there.

But first, new neighbors. The apartment that we ended up renting was undergoing renovations since the original building was built nearly fifteen years ago, so we were one of the few tenants that moved in.

The door across the hall housed a nice old lady (her name was Kaneko-obaa-san, but I called her Neko-obaa-san) who took crazy cat lady to the extreme. She smelled like cats, kind of sounded like a cat, and was surrounded by cats all the time.

Now, the other apartment housed the Monoma family. A mother, a father, and a son who was my age. And let me just say he was the cutest thing I had ever seen. Big blue puppy eyes and blonde hair, oh my.

Monoma Neito and I bonded over our so-called villainous quirks, and we became fast friends. So when we went to school together, we ended up being bullied even more, for being twin nerds with villainous quirks.

I didn't even notice that we had similar coloring, in the beginning. I was just glad to have a friend that I could share things with and talk to. But a lot of the kids kept asking if we were siblings, and every time we said no, they'd make fun of us for lying.

I called him Mohō because of his imitation quirk, and he called me Mimi (since I told him Kumo was out of the question). And we both stood in front of a mirror one day, stared at our reflections, and laughed at our classmates misunderstanding because they were honestly right. We looked a lot like blood-relations.

* * *

Blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin.

That's me, Hakamata Mirai.

And my unofficial twin, Monoma Neito.


	2. Noxious

Controlling a quirk is like using muscles that have never been moved before. It is like being a baby again, like there is no such thing as muscle memory because the muscle doesn't work like that.

Having something new suddenly start running through the body is very uncomfortable. Like getting a flu shot, only the shot runs through the entire body instantaneously instead of starting in one area and slowly inching towards the fingers and toes.

It starts in the bones, in the marrow, and it radiates out.

But maybe I'm describing growing pains.

* * *

When Mohō asked me how my quirk worked many years ago, I didn't know.

I still don't, but at least I have a better idea of how long I can stand using it. Which is not long, and definitely not well, but things are getting better.

* * *

My system is human. I have all the tracts, ducts, and intestines to prove that. But I believe somewhere in my DNA is a mutation that adds a bit of a spider's exoskeleton to my spine. That piece of DNA also lets me string up some lovely web designs.

Spider silk is incredibly delicate to the human touch. It sticks to human skin, and it falls apart with a swipe. (Honestly, it kind of matches my psyche.)

For a spider, its silk is a lifeline.

* * *

My system is human, but some of the instincts that I have are more of the spider kind.

Sometimes, I'll see a little male finch and think that it has beautiful feathers. Sometimes I'll immediately try hiding away.

Sometimes, I'll see a fly caught in a spiderweb and think nothing of it.

* * *

Controlling an extraneous limb is a strange feeling. Your body constantly tells you that there is a foreign thing invading, abort mission. So I never got around to actively using the four spider legs that adorn my back. A cat's tail is used for balance, and just like that, my extra legs were pretty much there for balancing myself. (Also, balance. My body had to be half-spider somehow. If it wasn't the inside, it was bound to be on the outside.)

One of the things Dad keeps telling me, is to accept that I am fully half-spider at this point. He says he went through a similar experience, that he woke up in a pool of poison drool slowly eating through his sheets. I keep telling him that it's not quite the same.

But I digress, that's not the most important thing as of right now. Mohō and I are starting junior high next week.

* * *

Meeting Monoma Neito six years ago was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. Nothing else has trumped that. Except maybe the looks on other kids' faces when Mohō and I tell them that we want to be heroes in the future. Even the teachers have preconceptions based on looks.

Mohō looks like an innocent angel… up until he smirks, sticks up his nose, and starts trash-talking anybody who comes too close. Me, on the other hand, the fourth grade teacher was taking role, got to my name, got startled and asked, "Which villain birthed you?".

* * *

It's very exciting, knowing that a school only has reports on my bad behavior and not an actual idea of what I've done. But it's not great having to endure the stares of curious passerby again.

Here's to hoping that I don't have to fling my webbing into more faces.

* * *

At this point, I've been sent to the therapist more times than I can count. I go if my parents think I've been acting out for attention, I go if I get too many panic attacks from my spider-qualities, I go if something seems off.

The thing is, my therapist has a quirk that sort of implants a suggestion into your brain. The suggestion used on me has always been to tell the truth.

I've gotten used to lying and trying to force the suggestion out of my head, but it never works. Now in everyday life, I lie and expect the other party to hear the truth instead.

* * *

So I look evil and lie about everything. That's not going to make me any friends.

Thankfully my parents and Mohō know me incredibly well, and that means they almost always take what I say and flip it.

I've been told that I have quite a few tells for when I'm lying, but the two that give me away the most often, are that one of my spider legs twitch and the other is that I try too hard to look like I'm telling the truth.

Anyone who can talk to me for an extended period of time would be able to figure those two out very easily.

* * *

In addition to balance and showing people that I'm lying, my spiders legs are ridiculously sensitive. I can't say how many times I've accidentally shut the door on a leg, or crushed one with a book. But from the pain that I feel when I do hurt a spider leg, it's like having a shin kicked.

From any angle and section, too. It's quite a weakness of mine, and the legs take forever to heal.

* * *

One of the plus sides, though, is that I can walk up walls. But that's only if I use my silk along with at least six of my limbs. And also if I'm trying to walk up a wall and onto a ceiling, I have to be able to produce silk from essentially the entire surface area of my hands.

The spider legs themselves can support half of my body when I'm walking up a wall, but I honestly have no idea how to move them, so when I was testing the theory, Mohō laughed his head off while I stuck my spider legs to the wall by hand.

Let me just say that producing enough spider silk to cover the surface area of my hands takes a long, long time.

And that's just for my hands; I still have a pair of human legs.


	3. Mortal

Gang Orca might not have been rank number one in hero popularity, but he was still in the top ten. By top ten, I mean he's number ten on the list, but number three on the list of heroes that look like villains. Honestly, it just goes to show how most of the world thinks that hybrid-human looks are evil.

Gang Orca was the hero that I looked up to the most because he was resilient. In heart, mind and body. All Might was heralded by many of my classmates (even the more religious ones) to be somehow "the second coming of God". I guess I could see where they were coming from.

Mohō had no compunctions with being a gigantic fan of All Might, and that was the basis of quite of few of our arguments. And maybe it was also because I was incredibly frustrated by the lack of improvement on my quirk that we ended up being so angry we didn't talk to each other for a time.

* * *

"All Might this, All Might that, _God_ ," I burst out, slamming a hand on my desk. "Neito, could you stop worshipping him for like two seconds? You're annoying. Or maybe leave the room and you can _continue your insanity somewhere else_."

Mohō was watching a compilation of videos about All Might's impressive rescues and running commentary on how-cool-All-Might-was-oh-my-god-do-you-think-I-could-do-that-someday-because-I-think-it's-really-cool. I was studying for mock exams that were coming up.

"Why? You jealous no one says he looks like a villain? Your little heart can't take it?"

Cheap shot, Monoma. I felt my eyes start to burn.

He can see it, too. "Oh? Your little heart really can't take it, then. You'll never become a hero, _Mirai_ , could you imagine the looks on the people's faces?"

He starts mocking my fears, "A _villain_ , why is a _villain_ coming towards me? Help, help! There's a _freaky villain_ here!"

At a peak of utter stupidity, I stand up, storm over to where Mohō is lying on my bed, and shove him off. Hard.

His face has already morphed to look like mine as he turns around and spits through sharp teeth, "See? You're already starting to act like one."

* * *

It's not that I dislike All Might. In fact, I admire him quite a bit, and being bitter about my looks is ridiculous. I'm sure I could get plastic surgery or something. Or if I were increasingly desperate, I could also cut the spider legs off. (No biggie.)

All Might is essentially the pinnacle of perfection for any aspiring hero. He has an incredible quirk, some fantastic charisma (and of course, a blindingly perfect smile). He also has near impossible to reach recoveries and rescue rates. All in all, near perfection in human form.

Being me, also known as so much imperfection put into a single form, I had no need to hide my jealousy. It's just another thing to add onto my long list of insecurities.

* * *

We're better now, I mean. Mohō is my best friend, and I still can't stand a day not talking to him. I don't know how I did it before, when we didn't talk to each other for a week. (Even our parents called each other to ask if anything went wrong in the household.)

When we go to our classes, it's still us against the world. But one of the greatest things about growing up, is that maturity levels have also risen. Therefore, no one goes around calling people villains willy nilly anymore. It also might be because according to school policy, unwarranted villain-calling results in a three day suspension, which is one more day than hero schools allow.

All of that also just happens if anybody is caught calling a schoolmate a villain. Otherwise, they can be as sneaky as possible, and bully to their heart's content. In any case, spreading gossip is boring. There are so many other things to do.

Did I mention that during the first week of school, a gang of mildly terrifying delinquents tried to recruit me?

* * *

I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when a group of upperclassmen came out of a classroom, rowdy as can be, and two of them bumped into me. It hurt, or at least one side did because one of them had a titanium bone quirk.

Being the spiteful little girl that I am, I turn around and say loudly, "Watch it, boy. That _hurt_."

So, not the greatest of ideas, since there was quite obviously strength in numbers, and I was all by my lonesome.

(But in hindsight, that might have also contributed to how the group thought of me…)

"Oh? You've got guts, kid. You know who I am?"

There was an awkward pause as I pretended to think about it.

"No," I eventually said, eyebrow quirked up and monotonously. "You supposed to be important or something?"

The group collectively laughed at the …leader, perhaps? He was the one speaking, at least. Stereotypical bleach blonde hair, terrible roots, fake tattoo creeping up his arm. (To this day, I actually still don't know his name. Just his class and what he looks like. There wasn't really a point in figuring his name out, it's not like I was actually going to become friends with him.)

" _Shut up_ ," he hisses at his …followers. Groupies. Whatever. " _I did not get roasted by— no,_ Ryota _— stop it—_ "

"Hi, don't mind him, he just has a big head," one of the darker haired boys says. "You're interesting, though. I wouldn't mind you hanging out with us."

" _And I_ would, _dammit—_ "

"Uh." I couldn't think of a way to escape the increasingly comedic situation, so I had to stay and talk until the entire conflict was resolved. "I don't think I'd be a good fit?"

"And we don't even know your name! What's your name? Are you a first year? You look like a first year. Because you're short! And you look lost. And—"

I inched away, turned a corner, and sprinted down a hall before coming to a screeching halt in front of my classroom.

"So, stalkers or admirers?" Mohō asks.


	4. Infection

Have I mentioned that I wanted to become a hero?

Purely out of spite for all the bullies. Just so that I can see their faces in the future when I save them. Mohō always had that goal in mind, in particular going to U.A. High to have the clearest and widest path to heroism.

As his best friend, I wanted to go to U.A. as well so we could stay together.

As his unofficial sister, I wanted to smash his head into a wall and scream at him.

 _Why in the world did he want to go to such a competitive school?_ There was no guarantee that he'd become a hero just because U.A. was so prestigious. There was a higher chance that he would be overshadowed by immensely flashier quirks.

And that sounds terrible, from an outsider's point of view. I should be supportive, but _man_ did Mohō make it hard for me to support his decision.

* * *

I wondered, sometimes, if I had ever unintentionally challenged a God. Athena, perhaps, because I was partially a spider. Weaving was not my specialty; weaving my fate was far worse.

But there were quite a few positives that came with the bad.

For one, I love dancing and gymnastics, had loved those even before my quirk popped into existence. And becoming a hybrid spider made most things dance and gymnastic related easier. Pirouettes were infinitely easier to do, extensions even more so, and aerials were very much a cake walk.

One would think otherwise, since the extraneous limbs look so bulky, but can anyone say they've ever seen a clumsy spider? Graceful might be a bit of a stretch, but training helps. Being athletic was certainly helpful, in regards to what Mohō called "serious hero training".

* * *

"Get back here!" Mohō screams from the top of a bookcase in his library.

"Serves you right!" I giggle in glee as I flee from the room. "You're the one who wanted me to work on my quirk, so you could work on yours too! It's only fair!"

"Mimi!" he calls again. "Unstick me now! If I break this—"

"—then it's your fault, dear!" his mother shouts from the kitchen as she makes some tea.

"Hi, Auntie!" I squeal as I go racing by. At this point, Mohō is bound to have made his way out of a very sticky situation. "Bye, Auntie!"

* * *

Mohō's quirk is interesting in the way that he can copy multiple quirks and use them interchangeably. Thank goodness he can only use them for barely a couple minutes at a time. Thing is, as long as he's touching a part of whoever he wants to copy, he can use their quirk for essentially forever.

And we've timed his quirk usage. Turns out, none of it is actually how well he understands how the quirk he's copying works. Mine, for example, lets him use it for nearly three minutes. His butler's, on the other hand, can be copied maybe for one and a half.

It's always changing. He says he started out barely being able to use other people's quirks. It was similar to how I felt about my legs; like they weren't a part of his body.

Slowly, but surely, we were improving.

* * *

"Hey, hey," I start, after we've both calmed down from chasing each other all over the house. "Have you thought about what you want to be called when you become a hero?"

He smirks. "Why? Imitation not doing it for you?"

"You're so _annoying_ , Mohō," I roll my eyes. "And I just want to know what other people will be calling you in the future."

"Something to do with 'sneak' maybe?" he sighs. "I don't know, I never thought that far."

"What about 'thief'? Negative connotation?" I ask.

"Negative connotation," he agrees. "You?"

"Is it too cliché if I want to be called Arachnid?"

Mohō looks incredibly unamused. "That's horrible, Mimi. You should've said you had no idea."

"Hey," I pout. "It just means that I paid attention in class when the instructor explained what arachnids and insects were."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens and closes it again.

I raise an eyebrow, "Yes? You look like you've got something to say."

"You like mythology," he starts.

"Yes, I do, thank you for listening to me," I cut in dryly.

He ignores me and continues, "There's the human woman who was a weaver, right? She was turned into a spider for provoking Athena?"

I raise my other eyebrow, this time. "Arachne? So you're saying I'm arrogant enough to challenge a God?"

"No, I'm just saying that you're weaving your own—"

I cut in again, "—fate? Yeah. Thanks, but no thanks."

Mohō rolls his eyes, this time.

"…But, I guess I'll keep that in mind," I sigh.

* * *

"If you were quirkless, do you think you'd want to become a hero?" Mohō quietly asks.

I stop writing equations, turn around, and stare at him.

He's staring down at his fingers, fidgeting. He looks up. "What? It's an honest question."

"No, no, I know, I'm just thinking." I say. I turn back around and continue. "Give me a minute to word my answer."

* * *

I think, if I did become a quirkless hero, the novelty would wear off quickly. Too quickly.

It might be inspirational.

It might also be horrible.

I think if I were quirkless, I would want to become a hero. I want to say that I would pick a somewhat safer option, though. Like being a nurse, a doctor, a policeman.

I probably wouldn't, honestly. Because being a hero, with the hero license and all, sounds cooler than being the lesser hero (still with a license).

And being a doctor, or a nurse, or a policeman doesn't mean that I can be a hero worldwide, it just meant that more people would listen to my advice.

* * *

Mohō looks contemplative for a moment, and nods slowly.

I take a breath, "If you were quirkless, would you become a hero?"

His expression clouds, his brows furrow, and he stares down at his fingers again.


End file.
